Ok Guys, I know I haven't updated in a while, but I thought I'd grace you guys with a new story... Unfortunatly, it has no yaoi in it, nor is it yugioh. This particular story is JTHM. A fanfic for a fanfic... if anyone has read the story 'Vargas' By Zarla, then they will know what I'm talking about. On with the story then.

Issues
"…Why are you here?"

The question broke the silence of the room sharply, sound reaching no ears but the ones of the voice's owner: a rather quiet man with a predominant nose, black, well kept hair, and adorned with rather thick circular glasses that never seemed to want to stay in place. At the moment however, those glasses were set aside, forgotten as he stared down at a small figurine in his hands, almost as if that were what he was speaking to. He stayed still for a moment or two, before rolling the little toy over his fingers, looking up from it to the mirror as another voice joined in breaking the silence.

"Hmm? Excuse me?"

"Why are you here?"

A pause. "…What kind of question is that?"

"A perfectly legitimate one. Why are you here?"

"No, seriously, where the hell did that come from? I've been here longer than your screwed up memory can recall."

"At least I can recall that you're –there-."

"Yes, and what a leap that –was-. I'm surprised you can even remember who you are, Edgar. Ever since Johnny came into the picture…"

"Here we go again…" The man referred to as Edgar groaned, grabbing his thick rimmed glasses and slipping them back on, pushing them up on his brow carefully.

"Because you don't seem to get it!"

"Scriabin, please. I don't need another headache."

"No, you're not the one that has to sit there, forced to listen to you two idiots ramble on about all this emo teenage level shit! It's repulsive! I swear, I'd rather gouge my eyes out with rusty barbed wire than sit through another angst fest!"

"Oh just shut it, Scri… You're-"

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" The assumed voice known as Scriabin interrupted rudely, growling in Edgar's mind angrily.

Edgar winced at the loud, booming voice the other had made, shaking out his ear, and pushing his glasses back up onto his nose with his index finger, as they had already slipped to the end of his nose. He really needed new glasses…

"I swear, without fail, you amaze me with your complete lack of understanding every single damned time!" Scriabin continued, the volume of voice lowering just a tad. "You continue to make a utter –fool- of yourself no matter the situation at hand! For Christ's sake! Johnny tried to KILL you, and you're still TALKING TO HIM! When he un-strapped you from that grotesque object of a machine, you could have left that hell-house and never went back, but no! You went back in! When he called you, you could have hung up! BUT NO! You stayed on the line! You called him back! YOU EVEN MET BACK UP WITH HIM! Tell me, Edgar, do you WANT to die? Are you LOOKING for a solution to your apparent 'need' to die besides suicide? Because God forbid you actually –did- kill yourself! Oh no! Then you'd go to HELL!" Scriabin merely scoffed at the thought of a heaven and a hell, obviously not a believer of things of the sort.

"Just… Shut up! You don't know ANYTHING!"

"Apparently I know a hell of a lot more than you do, Edgar! Goddamn it all! You want to die, don't you!? You could care less that I HAVE TO SHARE THIS WRETCHED BODY WITH YOU!"

"No. You don't. You could leave."

"Oh yea? And how in God's name am I supposed to pull THAT off?! Huh!? Any ideas, dearest EDGAR!"

"… I don't know. I'm not a VOICE."

"Apparently you're not a human either."

"Excuse me?" Edgar questioned in a confused tone, blinking curiously as he laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

"You're not human."

"Pardon my French, but what the hell does that mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like. You're not human, Edgar! Or at least not anymore! A HUMAN would have done something to stop Johnny from killing all those people!"

"Oh, damn it. Not this again! You're always going over the same topics! Repeating them over, and over, and over again, until my mind is practically bleeding from the lack of just simply caring what you have to say anymore! You're like a broken record, Scri! I get it!"

"No! You don't! You WANTED Johnny to kill those people! You delighted in the thought of him slitting the throats of those ignorant clods at the movies. In the thought of their lives slipping from them as the cool blade of his dagger pierced through their flesh. The sound of their blood as it splattered against the wall! You wanted them to suffer! You wanted to WATCH, Edgar!"

"I… he… that…"

"See? You can't even come up with a good rebuttal against my words! You're tongue tied because you know it's the TRUTH!"

"What could I have done, Scriabin!? Huh!? Just waltzed in there and grabbed the dagger from his HAND!? Then –I- would have been killed too!"

"So you're saying your life is more important than there's was?"

"What? NO!"

"What about Jimmy? You didn't do anything there either. You may not have delighted like you did before, but you still just sat there and let it happen!"

"I… I didn't know what to do!"

"For one, you could have said STOP! Jesus Christ, Edgar! Even after being completely COVERED in Jimmy's gore, you stayed! Stayed long enough to let that psychopath stab you! You stayed when he strapped you to that machine. You stayed when he knocked you upside the head with that statue. You even stayed then. I'm beginning to think you CAN'T leave Johnny. You're too damned dependant on this sick relationship. Even more so than he is, probably!"

"Just… SHUT UP! You're not perfect either, Scriabin! What about everything YOU'VE DONE! HUH!? What about all the torment you've put me through?! What about all the misery you've caused, all the psychological trauma, and the scars!"

"I didn't nearly get myself killed, Edgar."

"Oh yes you DID! You almost got us BOTH killed! If you hadn't POSSESSED me, I wouldn't have been at Johnny's house when he killed Jimmy! I wouldn't have gotten stabbed! What part did YOU play in all this, Scriabin!? It's not all my fault! And you know it! But you don't LIKE that thought, and so you try to place all the blame back on me! You've lied to me ever since you came into existence! You ALWAYS lie! I don't know a time when you've actually told the truth, save for actually admitting you could take me over! And how the hell do I know that was really you!? It could have been that damned thing that you fought off that one time! I'll never know, because YOU'LL NEVER TELL!"

"Don't you DARE try to turn this all back on me, Edgar!"

"I'M NOT! I'm showing you the parts YOU played!"

"I had nothing to do with any of this. You're the one that decided to stay around Johnny! He's off his damned ROCKER! You know that! Are you seriously still trying to FIX him!? THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE! He can never be fixed! He can never reach sanity! He'll always be insane! He'll always be a homicidal maniac. And he'll always want to KILL you! Every single time you ask him, he says he'll kill you once he reaches his 'perfection', whatever the hell that is. He's just using you! You're his tool! An object! Nothing more than something to cling to in times of discomfort, and throw away once he's done!"

"…"

"You'll NEVER fix him, Edgar! NEVER!"

"…"

"Don't you ignore me! Christ, don't you DARE ignore me!"

"Or what… you'll give me another seizure?"

Scriabin merely growled, falling silent for a long time. "… God. You're so stupid. So fucking dumb."

"…Just leave me alone. For once, can you just leave me alone? Quit tearing me apart with your criticism and just be civilized?! Or is that an impossibility for you?"

Scriabin groaned irritably and sighed. "You annoy me, you know that? You annoy me to the point of wanting to rip all my hair out! You never seem to understand the point I'm trying to make!"

"Because you always lie! Try telling the truth for once!"

"Ok. I'll tell the truth. You want the truth!? I'll tell you! I HATE YOU!"

"… I already knew that. You make it pretty obvious."

"…"

"…" Edgar stayed quiet for a few moments, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh. His head was pounding already, and Scriabin's ranting wasn't helping his situation in the slightest. If anything, they made it A LOT worse. If anything, it's what brought it on…God, is this what his life had sunken to? Arguing with a voice in his HEAD!? He couldn't be losing his sanity –that- badly…. Could he? "…Scriabin?"

"What."

"…Why do you hate me so much? Why do you devote so much energy to making me miserable? Why do you do what you do? If anything, BECAUSE we share the same body, we should be getting along a lot better than this… but…"

"Ok, stop there. Seriously, you're making my ears bleed with your incompetence. If you didn't hang around a homicidal maniac, then maybe it would be a legitimate question. But you do. So I'm not even going to validate that question with an answer. As for me devoting so much energy to making you miserable, well, quite frankly, you ask for it."

"…I… wait, what? Where did you get that logic? If anything, I'd adore it if you would stop."

"Then quit provoking me with your idiocy."

"I don't provoke you. What are you talking about?"

"Oh yes you do."

Edgar simply sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Don't you 'whatever' me! You know exactly what I'm talking about, or do I have to go over it again with you?"

"Please, spare me."

"Why don't you understand that the path you're taking is purely self destructive in nature!? Why can't you see that this road is a dead end? Why can't you see that once you get to the end, there isn't any room to turn around! Once you get too far, you can't go back! There is no returning from this road! Not unless you turn around NOW!"

"…God, just shut up already. I've already got a headache. You've done your job for the day. Go find a bone and chew down your teeth already."

Scriabin fell silent at that, and if he had physical form, one would have seen the other twitching rather violently at the analogy the other had thrown at him. "..."

Edgar sighed again and shut his eyes, trying to focus on the darkness the lids provided, anything to distract him from his head's throbbing. The silence was nice… So nice one would almost think things were normal; that the male wasn't going insane. But that philosophy was brought crashing down when the voice returned.

"Fuck you, Edgar."

Edgar sighed and shook his head, sitting up and pushing his glasses back up again. "Yes, Yes. Fuck me. Because I'm the root of all that is evil and screwed up in your life, right, Scriabin?"

"…"

"Because I'm just a screw up that can't ever do anything right in your eyes, no matter how hard I try. No matter what I do, I'll never do right by you."

"I never said…"

"No. You may not have, but you certainly imply it. A LOT."

"…"

"Why don't you just take me over permanently and get it over with, if you hate me so much. After all, you've proven time and time again that I definitely have no power in stopping ANYTHING you do. Right?"

"…"

"You're a liar, Scriabin. You can't seem to do anything –but- lie, can you?"

Scriabin merely growled. "…You know nothing."

"Exactly."

"…"

"…You never answered my question."

"Hmm? And what was that?"

"…Why are you here?"

Scriabin paused and thought for a moment. "…Because I am."

End

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